


Getting harder to Breathe

by passenger



Series: Towards the Light, the Dark has no place [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (aaaand idk what else to tag), (btw rated mature because triggers and complexity also will get r-rated later heads up), (its a thing okay), (only briefly jealous Louis but still possessive much), (theyre in a greenhouse im crying), Anorexia, Bipolar Disorder, Brief Self-Harm, DONT DO ANYTHING HARMFUL TO YOURSELF OR OTHERS, Flower Crowns, Head Over Heels!Harry, Hospitalization, Jealous Louis, Liam Payne & Harry Styles Friendship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Obsessive-Compulsive, READ THIS CLEARLY I HAVE TAGS, Schizophrenia, TALK TO ME IF YOU MUST I DONT CONDONE HARM, Zayn Malik & Harry Styles Friendship, for a reason, may trigger, please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:44:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passenger/pseuds/passenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="big">Harry's not the best with words or thought processes but he is the best with Louis and that suffices just fine.</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">title from Maroon5 - Harder to Breathe (but it really has nothing to do with the writing)</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where there's light, He is.

**Author's Note:**

> Triggers!!...There are possible triggers strewn through out this piece. Please, please, skip it if you feel uncomfortable. Please, please, talk to me if you need someone. Please, please, don't hurt yourself in anyway (physically or emotionally).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he's honest, he wouldn't mind only seeing in the color blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ////There is a cutting scene, it is brief and it isn't too detailed, but this note is for your benefit xx////

The first time Harry sees him, he's sitting on a park bench in the middle of spring. People walk by and stare because Harry might look a little disheveled for a twelve year old; The doctor just says it's normal for special people like him.

Harry scratches at his curls because it feels like there's teenie tiny locusts buzzing around him. His head voices aren't there, but he knows they're just tired; they always come back. But Harry's mother always has him carry two extra green-like-his-eyes candies to calm the voices down; they like those candies. Harry doesn't. They hurt his throat and he cant even suck on them because the doctor says to swallow them whole so that it goes straight to the people in his head.

Anyway, he's here and people give him funny looks. Except for one; the boy with blue eyes. Harry smiles shyly because this is the first person who isn't wary of him.

"Hi," the short boy says sweetly. And it's a real voice- not like the ones in his head.

"Hi," Harry whispers as not to wake them up.

"Why are you alone?"

Harry ponders that for a moment. He's always been alone. He's not allowed in school so his mum teaches him. When Harry plays outside, other children usually don't want to play with him. His mother says its because they weren't raised fairly but Harry knows it's because kids don't want to play with someone who scratches at their curls and has people in their brains. Harry just shrugs.

_Liar_

Harry winces, because now he's done it. They've woken up.

_You know why, don't you, Harry?_

He frowns. Yeah, he knows. Or does he? He shakes his head; he's not supposed to listen to the voices because they get nasty and confuse him. It feels like there's twenty different people in his head shouting at him but he doesn't focus on it because he'll cry. And Harry doesn't plan on crying in front of this boy.

"'m names Louis," the blue eyed boy with the sweet voice has a name that fits like a new pair of gloves. Harry smiles despite the war in his brain.

"H-Harry," he says just as he feels something vibrating in his coat pocket.

_Don't answer it, Harry_

_It's a trap_

Harry shuts his eyes and sighs, digging into his pocket. He pulls out his cellular that his mother gave him for emergencies. The screen flashed and his mother's picture gives him a comforting reassurance.

"Hello," Harry answers.

"Hey, baby," his mum's voice drowning out the others, "You need to come on home now."

"Yes, mum." He sighs, staring into Louis' eyes, "See you soon." He hangs up, looking at Louis with sad jade eyes (not just because he's leaving Louis but because the voices are getting fiercer).

"You've got to go?" Harry only nods and Louis understands, "See you then." Both boys smile and that's that. Harry goes one way and Louis goes another.

***

Harry scratches his curls again, feeling that dirty crawling feeling along with the voices and buzzing. He's at the breakfast table and his mum is telling him about the boy who moved in next door. She says he's almost as special as Harry. They make plans to go see the boy next door at lunch time, but right now Harry has to ignore the buzzing and yelling and eat his breakfast.

At lunch time, Harry's mother is standing by the door with a gift basket full of nice things like warm bread and blueberry muffins. It smells delightful and Harry wants to eat one then-

_They're poison_

_She wants you dead. Everyone dead. She's selfish_

_Eat one. Kill yourself before she does_

Harry shuts his eyes tightly, holding tears in. His mum sets the basket down and hands Harry two pills (he finally found out they weren't candy). He swallows them quickly and his body relaxes as the voices are muzzled.

"We don't have to go, Harry," his mother whispers, massaging his shoulders. Harry frowns and shakes his head.

"I don't mind," Harry scratches his curls, "Plus you said he was special too."

So they set off to go next door. As they're crossing the green lawn, Harry thinks about the last time he almost made a friend. Two years ago, when he met Louis.

"Now Liam is about a year older than you, he's 15," Harry's mum knocks on their neighbor's front door.

When the boy's mom, Mrs. Payne, lets them inside, Harry notices how  _clean_  their home is. She makes them take off their shoes by the door and finally leads them to the family room where Liam is sitting.

"Liam, how about you and Harry go up to your bedroom, sweetie?"

Liam doesn't say anything, just stands and begins walking down a hallway. Harry follows and swats away at the bees by his ear.

They're sitting in Liam's bedroom, just talking since Harry was instructed to touch nothing, "So, how are you special?" Harry grins.

"Special?"

"You know," Harry cocked his head to the right, "special. I'm special because I hear voices in my head," Harry frowns at that but continues, "So how're you special?"

Liam gives Harry an incredulous look, "Harry," the doe eyed boy shakes his head in disbelief, "We're sick. Not special."

That night when Harry and his mother return home he asks her about it. She frowns and tells Harry he shouldn't worry much because when you're sick, you get better.

But he does worry. He worries because he hears his mum crying in her bedroom and it hurts him. It hurts him more than the loud voices ringing in his ears.

***

Now, Harry is seventeen and his best friend is probably Liam. Even though there's another boy that Liam likes more (Harry thinks those two should be more than friends but Liam pretends he's too busy arranging the cupboards to listen when he brings it up). Zayn, Liam, and Harry really clicked. Probably because all three of them were sick and no one else would even look their way.

Zayn doesn't eat. Harry and Liam don't push him though, because that just gets Zayn worked up. When Zayn's angry he tries to fight them and they don't want to fight Zayn. He's too small; he'd break.

"Just tell him, Li." Harry mutters one afternoon as Liam's rearranging the cabinets in his kitchen for the third time since his mum went out.

"'M busy," he sighs, before muttering a string of curse words (exactly 4 because Liam likes the number 4) as he starts over on the cabinets again.

"Thats four, Liam."

"Fuck," (fuck, fuck, fuck), "I- I just can't...Harry, it's getting worse. I'm unhappy with it," and it looks like Liam's arranging it by color this time.

"Can I help?" Harry smiles, scratching his curls.

"No! Harry, don't move. Don't you fucking (fucking, fucking, fucking) move," Liam runs a hand through his growing hair, "Just don't...it'll throw me off."

Harry hums an understanding and goes back to texting Zayn about their plans for the night. He knows not to get worked up over what Liam says because he knows Liam just has his problems. Also, the things Liam says aren't the worst he's heard.

_Push him, push Liam_

_Knock him down_

Harry shook his curls and scratched, trying to get the insects out of there.

_Kill him, Harry! Fucking kill him!_

"No!" Harry shouts firmly. There's chaos in his brain but he can hear Liam's voice over it.

"Listen to me Harry, c'mon drown them out," Harry's still grinding his teeth and his eyes are shut tightly.

_You can't do it_

_Because you're a fucking screw up_

"I'm not," Harry fights, "not a screw up," he frowns.

Liam's still placing various cans in various places and Harry feels himself being ripped apart because there's forty people shouting at him and only one is real.

"Harry, you can do it," Liam is cursing because everything's out of control his cupboards and Harry and himself, "Please, try. Listen to me, calm yourself!"

"I-Im tr-"  _No you aren't_

_You're worthless_

"Harry take your pills! You have 'em right," Liam breathing hard from the stress and it echoes in Harry's ears.

Choke him. Harry lets out a choked breath, "No."

"What? Where are your pills then?" Harry grimaced because he wasn't talking to Liam he was talking to the demon inside him.

 _Make him stop breathing, do it, he's hurting you_ "No!" Harry shouts, "No, no, no!" He pulls at his hair.

 _NO_  

Harry feels a wetness staining his cheeks and, yeah, he's crying in front of Liam. It's getting harder to breathe and finally,  _It'd be easier to die, huh?_

Harry nods, falling pliant to the voices. He's given up on not giving in. He hears Liam's voice but the others trump it. Harry stands and walks over to where Liam's kitchen knifes are displayed. He pulls a sharp one out and looks at his distorted reflection in the thin, metallic blade.

_Slit them_

_What are you waiting for?_

And yeah, it'd be easier to just bleed out. It's a swift flick of the knife and it's the roar of Liam's cries in his ears. Harry sees red and then nothing at all, but he feels. He feels the sting and the freedom. He feels Liam's fists at his collar and he feels himself drifting. Then he hears. He hears the sirens and his mothers wailing. Finally Harry only sees, hears, and feels the boy from the park those years ago. Louis is the briefest thought before Harry's senses fade to black.

***

The second time he sees him, he's sure he's an angel. There's a monitor besides Harry beeping at a steady rhythm and it radiates an eerie sort of relief.

Harry blinks because the room is a blinding white and maybe he's in Heaven. Then a boy older than Harry walks in and, yeah, Harry's in Heaven.

"You're an angel," Harry manages in a raspy whisper.

The boy laughs and it's a sound that he wants to listen to forever, "Not quite," and it's a voice that warms Harry's toes, "I'm your new appointed therapist." Harry nods at that, but who's he kidding? This guy's an angel.

It's when they make eye contact that Harry realizes who he is. He meets the blue eyes for the second time (or twentieth because they're just that familiar) and his memory catches up, "Louis?"

"Yes," Louis giggles and, wow, Harry definitely likes that,"took you a bit to realize."

"Where's my mum?" Harry asks then quickly bites his lip because he's seventeen and shouldn't need his mother that badly, but he does.

"I told her I'd look after you so she could go down and get herself some tea," and Harry's in a trance because Louis smile is quite the sight, "She'll be back soon. I've got to go-"

"Don't," Harry bites his tongue, "I-I mean...Just, like, when will I see you again?"

"Oh, we'll see plenty of each other, Harry. I'm always around when you need me." Louis winks. Or at least Harry thinks it's a wink, but it could be a trick of the fluorescent lighting.

***

So, Harry's mum lets him down easy. Tells him about what he did and how she's not angry that she's knows it's hard and that they owe Liam everything. Harry smirks because Liam does care even though he'll swear to the moon and back (four times) that he doesn't.

Now it seems Harry is going to be transferred to the psych ward in the hospital. They're going to help him get better.

Harry guesses he's okay with that. It'll make his mother happy and he'll see a lot more of Louis. So, he nods and smiles shyly as the nurses lead him down the halls to a different section closed off with secured, highly monitored doors. Then he starts feeling a bit frightened.

***

It's been a week since Harry poorly attempted suicide and three days since he was admitted to the loony bin.

He misses Liam and Zayn, a lot. Mostly because Harry is stuck in a room with a boy who has weird orange hair and smells like feet. The boy doesn't do much except sleep and Harry doesn't mind because it gives him an excuse not to yell at the man burrowed in his brain.

He decides he'd like to go to the den area the nurse told him about so he takes the short trip down the hall. Harry saw some interesting people on his way, but they gave him the creeps so he kept walking. When he reached the room it wasn't as fun as he expected. The same tiled floor and the same colored walls, but this room had couches and tables and board games. So, Harry picks a seat and moves the checker pieces around to pass time.

"This is my table," Harry jumped slightly at the voice and looked up, meeting a pale skinned, artificial blonde boy.

"I just- sorry," he muttered. He furrowed his eyebrows and scratched his curls because he's sure the hospitals got a bug problem.

"You have a tick," and it took Harry a second to register the words because the boy's accent is really thick and really Irish.

"Yeah, it's a thing. My hairs clean, I swear. I just, scratch sometimes. Th-there are, uh, I hear buzzing." Harry frowns because he doesn't like explaining himself and he just wants to go back to his room now because at least the orange haired kid doesn't talk, only sleeps.

"'m Niall Horan," the kid sits down in front of Harry and shuffles the pieces on the checker board, without making eye contact he keeps talking, "I've got type 2 bipolar disorder. It's not all that bad or worse than type 1 but I get majorly depressed and majorly happy at times. Except I've just taken my pills an hour ago, so now I'm a little high, but you'll notice soon enough."

"Oh," is all Harry manages at first. He lets the information sink in before coughing into his elbow awkwardly and then, "I'm Harry. Styles, er, Harry Styles. I have, um, schizo..uh, schiz-"

"Schizophrenia?!" Niall bursts, "No way! Only met one other schizo. Let me tell ya, you've got it good. Never woulda guess on you."

Harry nods and grins shyly because he may like Niall.

***

The third time Harry sees him, he's angry and he's not sure what's real anymore. Harry stomps around in the room the room they put him in. They told him to 'sort yourself out and you can come out again'. He can't quite pinprick what set it off but they're giving him different pills and the voices don't like them. So, they yell and it's makes him yell.

_You wouldn't be here if you could kill yourself properly_

_Pathetic_  
 _Loser_  
 _Worthless_  
 _Stupid_

"You're not real," Harry whispered timidly.

_Oh, really_  
 _You're not real._  
 _We're very real_

Harry shook his head and pulled on his curls because they make his brain itch and his chest ache.

_Your life's a lie_  
 _You knows what isn't real?_

Harry covered his ears to make them stop but it doesn't help because they're inside voices. There's no way of stopping them.

_Anne_  
 _Gemma_  
 _Liam, Zayn, Niall_

Harry groaned, "Stop," he sobbed.

_That precious Louis, too_  
 _He's not an angel. He's the devil_

Harry looked around, eyes wet and red-brimmed. He beat on the wall, screaming. He yelled at the top if his lungs yet he's not sure any real sound is coming out.

_No one can hear you_

Harry crouched in a corner of the white room, or is it gray? His mind is playing tricks on him. He closes his eyes and let tears fall slowly as his brain eats itself alive.

"Harry," Harry looks up, startled. He sees Louis and he furrows his eyebrows.

"Louis," He doesn't mean for it to sound like a question but it does. And it is. Because Harry can't seem to tell the difference between fantasy and reality; what his mind is telling him and what he knows.

"Harry, listen to my voice and only my voice,"

_Don't trust him_  
 _He isn't real_  
 _You're stupid_

"I-I-I don't," Harry is sobbing again, "you're not real," he groans. But he's not sure who he's talking to; the voices or Louis or himself.

Harry's just lost.

"I'm real, Harry," Louis' voice is faint compared to roaring in Harry's ears, "I promise."

Harry looks up, meeting Louis' eyes and the voices start to calm down. He feels a shaky wave of relaxation wash over him. Soon there's nothing in the room other than white walls, blue eyes wide as ocean tides, and frightened green eyes.

***

"When do I get to meet this therapist o' yours?" Niall asks pushing food around on his tray.

Harry frowned, Louis is  _his_  and he didn't like the idea of sharing, but this is Niall, "Erm, make sure you're around next time he comes by," Harry grins because that should be soon.

Niall nods at that and dives into his stories of his therapists. He's gone through three in the past two weeks, "You'd think they can handle crazy in this place," he mutters.

Harry giggled lightly before taking his last bite of banana, "Of course they can handle crazy," he wriggled his eye brows at his Irish friend (yeah, he guesses Niall's his friend now), "it's _you_ they can't handle, mate."

Niall and Harry laughed a little too loud at that. Harry saw Louis walking into the dull cafeteria and yeah, it's not so dull anymore. Harry's laughter quieted and he smiled widely, catching the elder's eyes. He was in such a trance Harry didn't notice Niall quieted down significantly.

"That's what I want," Harry furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Niall whose eyes weren't so bright anymore, "to smile like that."

"You smile a lot, Ni,"

"Not like that." Niall looked down at his food again and Harry pinches his thigh. He wants Niall to be happy too.

"Want to meet Louis?" Harry grinned. Niall looked up and replied with a tight-lipped grin and a subtle nod.

Harry stood, "Follow me," he chuckled. He instantly started out of the cafe, into the hall. Harry and Lou had their own special place to meet, it was a garden, a greenhouse, it was beautiful and theirs. But Harry wants Niall to smile so he whispers his memorized route.  _Take a right, then another, go exactly 15 steps down the hall, check for any security, continue down the hall to the stair well, go up three flights of stairs to the almost-roof, into the door, and into the sunlight. This is it. This is where Louis stays._

"Well," Harry turned to Niall, who looked slightly confused, "this is where he, uh, therapies me."

"Alright, I'll play along," Niall pursed his lips.

Harry cocked his head to the right and furrowed his eyebrows, "I know, it's a greenhouse, but it's calming and I love it." He smiles, turning to walk down the row of lilies.

"Oi, mate, are you taking the piss?" and Harry hears that hint of irritation in Niall's voice.

Harry shakes his head before scratching at his curls, Niall will understand once he sees Louis, "Lou!" Harry calls.

It's quiet and Harry stops in his tracks, scratching his curls again, "Lou?" He calls again and waits a beat.

Harry turns around to see a wide-eyed Niall, "Louis?" he calls louder.

"Listen, Harry," and Harry doesn't like the tone of Niall's voice, "I've got pills to take soon, you should co-"

"No!" He slaps a hand over his mouth, "I've just, I...I have to find Louis,"

Niall shakes his head and sighs, "You've got to come with m-"

"Go," Harry whispers.

"What?"

" _Go_ ," Niall starts to look blurry because Harrys eyes are wet and he's scared and he wants Louis, "I shouldn't have brought you here." He looks at his feet, ashamed.

"I'll go," Niall pauses before actually making any movement, "See you, mate,"

Harry stays put, staring at the torn fabric of his ratty once-white converse. Once he hears the door shut behind Niall, Harry sinks to his knees, letting the tears flow freely now.

The garden isn't so bright anymore and his chest aches.

"Louis, why can't he see you?" Harry whispers.

"Harry, you shouldn't have brought him here. This was /our/ garden. I'm sorry," Harry sniffles, relief washing over him as he feels Louis' arms tight around him, "It's just I only want to be yours."

And yeah, Harry understands that.

***

Harry hasn't talked to Niall. He's in the garden a lot often now and sits with Louis during meals. He feels Niall's eyes trained on him but he keeps his eyes on Louis' because they don't doubt him.

They're in the garden, Harry and Louis, and the sun's starting to set. Harry's smiling and staring at Louis' profile, the elder boy's gaze on the various flowers. He's close and warm and he can smell Louis mixed with rose petals and his heart is beating steady. He feels his palm starting to get clammy but he wouldn't let go of Louis' hand for the world.

"Haz, I made you something," Louis' sweet voice wakes Harry from his thoughts.

His smile spreads as Louis squeezes his hand gently, "Oh yeah? What?"

Louis smirks, releasing his hand ("No pouting" he chuckles, before Harry even grabs a chance to) and picking up a circular gaggle of flowers that he hadn't even noticed were there. Harry's eyes widen and he's pretty sure they sparkle, "A flower crown?"

Louis giggles (and Harry's heart skips a beat), placing it atop Harry's curls as he nods, "So pretty, Hazza."

Harry feels a blush creep across his face. He's in the looney bin, he's lost and confused, he still has angry voices in his head, and he hasn't seen his friends in weeks, but he has Louis. And Louis' brighter than the stars and the moon. And Louis is his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction, unfortunately, and they more or less own my soul. Also I understand how terrible I am with summaries, let's not talk about it.


	2. For the Third Time...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helpless (adj.) deprived of strength or power; powerless; incapacitated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction, unfortunately, and they more or less own my soul. Also I understand how terrible I am with summaries, let's not talk about it.

It's been weeks since Harry was emitted into the psych ward. Well, two weeks and five days to be exact. He didn't mind it all too much; he got phone calls from his mum every other day and he even received three from Zayn and Liam. He missed them all, sure, but Louis made up for it all. Except, Harry found it hard not having anyone like _him_ to talk to. Louis was _perfect_ and everything Harry could ever dream of, but Louis wasn't _sick_. Louis was the good kind of special, not Harry's kind of special. He had Liam and Zayn but they were outside where there weren't eerie white walls and blue speckles in the clean tiled floor (although Harry really loved the blue specks because they were the same color blue as Louis' eyes). Harry used to have Niall to talk to, but he and Niall barely look at each other since the incident.

Harry frowns as he pushes food around his tray and mentally curses himself for even thinking Niall would understand that he and Louis were exclusive and that's the only reason he couldn't see him. It was _most definitely_ not that Louis isn't real. Louis is positively the realest entity in Harry's life. He shudders at the thought that Louis is just his mind playing tricks again.

"Haz," Louis' (very real and very addicting) voice breaks his thoughts, " _smile_ ," and it's a simple request. So, Harry smiles. Harry would do just about _anything_ Louis says. As he smiles, he looks up from his half-eaten tray to meet Louis' gaze. He sat alone during meals now, well, with the exception of Louis of course. They found a nice corner table to call theirs, it only sat two chairs. Louis took the chair against the wall and Harry didn't mind because with the wall behind Louis, there was nothing to distract Harry from staring at him and with the people behind Harry he could pretend the _voices_ were just background whispers from the other patients' conversations.

Harry opens his mouth to say something but he's interrupted by a thick, Irish accent, "Can I sit with you," and it's Niall, standing besides the small table with a hand on the back of Louis' chair. Harry looks between Louis and Niall, Louis only shrugs and Harry chews his lip, shrugging too.

"I guess," he motions to an empty seat at the table beside them, "pull up a chair, Ni," he grins up at the blonde-ish boy. At first, Niall pauses to look at Louis then back at Harry, but he quickly sighs before dragging the chair over and sitting. Harry notices Niall doesn't have a tray and he giggles, "Wow, Ni, missed me so much you can't eat?"

Niall tries fighting it, Harry can see, but eventually let's out a barking laugh, "You know I'm like a vacuum, mate, finished it off within the minute," Harry nods at that, "Anyway, 'm here because I can't stand seeing you here all al-" Niall coughs, "without me."

Harry shakes his curls, "I've got Louis, so it's nothing," he purses his lips. Then he chuckles lightly, "but I've missed you too."

***

If someone were to ask Harry how many times he's heard the voices or seen the shadows or felt the crawlers on his skin, he wouldn't be able to answer with anything other than, ' _I've lost count_ '. Although if someone were to ask how many times he's felt absolutely helpless, he'd answer, ' _twice_ '.

The first time, he was only six. He doesn't recall it all but he remembers his mother crying as his father left. Harry remembers sitting in the den, looking out the window. He remembers it was bright outside despite the clouds' crying and his mother's begging.

Harry had only picked up bits of his father's defense as he picked up bags and dragged them out to his truck. There were words like: shameful, sickening, and difficult. All of which Harry didn't really understand, barely understands it now, but Harry did recognize his name. And at the time, it didn't click with Harry but the people in his head got it.

_This is your fault_

_You're making him leave_

There were too many voices again. There was his mother's wailing, his father's incriminating accusations, and his head voices burrowing deep in his brain.

Harry could only stare out the window as his father shrugged out of his mother's arms and as his monsters scolded him.

He didn't understand it; he felt absolutely helpless.

***

After Harry's third week in the looney bin, the doctors make him see a new therapist. He frowned as he told Louis, but Louis said he didn't mind. Louis is always around when Harry needs him anyway (which Harry seems to need Louis _a lot_ ).

He feels uncomfortable and tugs on his curls as he waits for his new therapist in her office. The walls are still the same blinding white and the floor is still a clean, speckled tile but the room is warm and the furniture is a bit homey.

"Hello," a sweet voice calls and a pale, platinum blonde lady enters the room. She's older, Harry can tell, but she's very pretty and Harry feels less awkward immediately, "I'm Dr. Teasdale but you can call me Lou," she winks, taking her seat across from Harry.

Harry giggles and smiles at her because she's got the same initials as Louis, "'m Harry, but you probably know that," and she smiles, laughing quietly.

"I do know that," she picks up a pen and notepad from the small coffee table between them, "how're you liking the place so far, Harry?" she's proper polite and it makes Harry sit up straighter.

He ponders it a moment, "Bit boring, really," he clasps his hands together and states down at them, "everything's very routine and one color," he shrugs.

Lou hums in agreement, "Have you made any friends though," she's writing something down but Harry doesn't want to think she's writing anything bad about him so he imagines her doodling flowers.

"Two," he nods, "Niall is a right lad," he chuckles but he doesn't know if he should mention Louis. Louis is _his_ after all. Harry scratches his curls, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden. He furrows his brows and flicks the buzzing away from his ear.

Lou doesn't say anything for almost a minute and it worries Harry. He chews on his lip, waiting and scratching away at the locusts. Finally she pipes up, "and the other friend?"

Harry shakes his head sadly, "rather not talk about him," he rambles on, "it's just he's like _my_ friend. Don't like when other people know him," he opens his mouth to say more but Lou interrupts him.

"That's fine, Harry," she smiles softly, "but the sooner we talk about what's happening in your life, the sooner you can go on with it."

And that actually makes a lot of sense in Harry’s cluttered mind.

***

He's in the greenhouse when he sees Louis again. Harry had spent nearly two hours with Lou, something about her just made Harry open up. Louis was waiting for Harry and tending to the little flowers and various plants they had. Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Hi, Louis," he skipped over. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' waist and squeezed tight and yeah, Louis is most definitely real.

" _Haz_ ," Louis hums, turning to wrap Harry up in his golden, muscular arms (yes, definitely real), "How was the new therapist?"

"Oh, she was brilliant, Lou," Harry gushed, "She let me talk and didn't make me feel like I was sick, made me feel like a proper friend," he nodded. Harry was quick enough to catch the flash of jealousy on Louis’ face, not that Louis had tried very hard to hide it, and frowned, “Lou, you’re still my best pal.”

Louis pulls away from their embrace despite Harry’s pouting and silent protest, crossing his arms and raising an accusative eyebrow.

“Quite hard to be someone's best pal when you’re off with a different Lou who’s much prettier and girly and ‘ _treats you like a proper friend_ ’,” and Louis tries to play it off as a joke with a smirk plastered to his stupidly beautiful face, but Harry’s heard voices all his life and deciphering their tone is practically his specialty.

“She’s just a dumb doctor like the rest of ‘em,” He steps forward, but Louis’ farther away.

Harry furrows his eyebrows and tries again to step closer.

It’s not that Louis is moving away from Harry but the space between them is solid. The two boys are about two feet too far away from each other. Harry tries again and worries his bottom lip because Louis still looks disappointed, but he can’t reach him to kiss those thin lips into a smile (not that he’s actually kissed Louis but Harry’s lying if he says he hasn't dreamed of it).

“Louis, _touch_ me,” Harry whined, feeling his brain boggle around in his head. He didn't like feeling this confused.

He didn't like how he was feeling downright _unwanted_ by Louis.

Louis was quiet, face stoic. Harry felt cold. He was rushing forward but Louis held his ground, keeping just out of Harry’s reach. Close enough so Harry could read the anger in Louis’ features but too far for Harry to feel safe.

“Louis, please, ‘m so sorry,” there were tears resting on Harry’s eyelashes, “I won’t see her again, Louis!”

 

Still, nothing.

 

“Louis, anything,” Harry pleaded, “just _need_ you again.”

That made Louis pipe up, “Anything?”

“Christ, Lou, _anything_ ,” Harry wiped his tears with the sleeve of his hospital fatigue as his chase came to a halt.

“ _Jump_ ,” Louis whispered.

Stupidly, Harry did. He hopped up in place, sniffling and chewing his lip. Louis rolled his eyes and stepped to the left, gesturing to the ledge behind him. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly.

In all the fuss, Harry had forgotten where he and Louis stood. Yes, in their makeshift greenhouse, but the garden happened to be placed on one of the building’s rooftops. They usually stood this close to the ledge while holding each other because Harry’s never been a fan of heights.

“ _Jump_ ,” but it wasn't Louis that said it. Well, it was Louis’ voice; Louis’ sweet as sugar and adorably squeaky voice. But Louis didn't move his tantalizing lips. So, it couldn't have been Louis, could it?

“I...I can’t,” Harry frowns, risking taking a glance over the ledge’s concrete wall. The wall only came up just below Harry’s hip, but he could feel the floor beneath him opening up. Chills ran down his spine as he looked to Louis, fearful, and Louis only stared back, hauntingly loving and deathly convincing.

“You said,” Louis spoke smoothly like this was a casual happening, “ _anything_.”

The words echoed in his head.

_Jump_

_Anything_

_Jump_

_Anything_

It was a sick, twisted incantation. Half of it in Louis’ voice and half of it a mixture of the ones he has been familiar with since he can remember.

Harry stepped closer to the wall, entranced, feeling the cool concrete press into his thighs.

“Do it,” Louis whispered, sweet in Harry’s ear, “or I’ll leave for good.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut so tight it hurt. Too many words in his mind to count.

“What if I don’t make it,” he whispered back.

“You will, I’d never hurt you, Haz,”

Harry nodded, scared out of his wits, as he placed large palms on the wall, lifting himself carefully. Louis cooed him over all the other mean things wracking his brain as he struggled to get a leg up.

He opened his eyes slowly, the blue sky seeming all too close, and looked down where the ground, 18 floors below, was all too far.

That’s when he felt it…

_Helplessness_.

****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my italics, as you can see.
> 
> Sooo, so very sorry for the wait. I wasn't sure how to put my thoughts down and I have such big plans for this and so little time. I hope no one has lost interest! xx
> 
> Well, here it is, chapter two. Sorry for such a rough cliffhanger, loves. There was just no better way to end this for the beginning of the next chapter. 
> 
> Well, comments and concerns and compliments always appreciated. xxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction, unfortunately, and they more or less own my soul. Also I understand how terrible I am with summaries, let's not talk about it.
> 
> This is entirely my own work, it would kill me to see someone credit it as their own. So please, don't. I've got a family to feed...how am I to put food on the table when people are claiming my work as their own. Do people even read the end notes?


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